ctrl alt delete
by arashi-enkou
Summary: The human brain is like a supercomputer. Too much information and it crashes. ::Chloe::


Disc: NOOOO! Please stop asking! It makes me sad. -sobs in a corner-

Notes: Some Smallville stuff. Inspired from the preview of the next episode.

Er, warning: Very abstract, I guess.

--

_101101010011010100101101010101010100110100101010010101010010010101001010101010101101010101001010101_

_gateway timeout_

_error_

"Ugh!"

"Wait, try it again."

_101101010011010100101101010101010100110100101010010101010010010101001010101010101101010101001010101_

_gateway timeout_

_error_

"Again. Run it again."

"Chloe, I don't think it's wor--"

"Lois. Try it again."

_1011010100110101_

"There's your problem."

_2_

"Hey! It's fixed! You're a miracle worker Chloe!"

"I do what I can."

_reboot_

--

_Mother's Madness_ was setting in earlier than expected. It started so gently, so subtley that she failed to recognize it for what it was. Memories weren't as clear as they used to be; memories that never belonged were taking their place. Faces were disappearing from the heads of people she knew, people she loved. Places were becoming scrambled masses of pixels the more she tried to piece together her mind.

Time was loosing its meaning; days melded together (_oh, did the sun go down, i can't recall_). Mondays were Fridays and Fridays were--when was Friday again?

_(what was friday again?)_

Months had lost their names. The sun beat down on her head harshly, the air seemed clogged with moisture, so she was one of those summer months, she assumed.

Computers were loosing their charm. Iris Foundation's mass of super-technology wasn't as "oh-my-fucking-gosh" as they had been._ My processing speed is over blah blah blah_. Old news.

Her fingertips flew over the keyboard. What was she researching again? Her illness? Wait, no, it wasn't an illness, because Mother was a meteor--

_meteor--_

_what?_

Her fingers stilled; twitched. There was a curious warmth inside of her brain. Her eyes fluttered, rolled into the back of her head. She pitched forward, but heard more than felt the thud as her body hit the floor, felt more than tasted the blood in her mouth; her lip was split.

Seizure, her mind supplied.

_gateway timeout_

_error_

--

"You're alright? Chloe?"

"Oh. Yeah, I suppose."

Awkward silence, fingers rubbing the thin sheets of cotton. The strong smell of death, despair, and lost hope burned her nostrils. Hospitals were an awful place.

Expecially when you couldn't remeber the name of the woman sitting next to you.

"I'm glad you're okay, girl, you had me worried."

"I'm sorry?"

A shaky laugh.

"Well, just don't do that again. Smallville nearly had a heart attack."

"Smallville? The town?"

Another silence.

"No. Clark."

"Oh."

_clark who?_

"I guess I'll see you later tonight, okay Chloe?"

"Y-yes--" A name on an ID, next to a picture. She read it. "--okay Lois."

_whoever you are_

--

She couldn't remember much anymore. Thoughts slipped away as soon as they came; memories too. They all slipped from her fingers like water; she could hardly remember herself. Could hardly remember her fears. Her hopes. Dreams.

She didn't dream; didn't sleep. It was just working on the computer, researching something she couldn't remember, but her fingers moved on their own.

_Chloe Sullivan_, she typed; the name was foreign to her.

Google brought up a number of articles, each dealing with the paranormal. She eagerly devoured each one, though it didn't stick with her. She forgot each one the moment she was finished with them. She was aware of re-reading each one dozens of times

_copy_

in the hope that the repetition of the action would keep it in her memory.

_paste_

--

One day she forgot how to stay awake. She managed to fall asleep one night and didn't wake up, though her heart kept beating.

--

"Isn't there anything you can do!?"

"We're sorry, Ms. Lane. It's not that simple; according to her family records, it's genetic."

A pause.

"Will...she ever wake up?"

A ruffling of papers.

"No."

Silence.

"We'll put her on life-support."

_ctrl_

--

"Hey, Chloe. It's Lois."

The hiss of a machanical breath.

"The doctors told me that you can hear me. I just wanted to say hi."

Another hiss. At least it broke the silence.

"It's winter now; you're officially hibernating. Again."

In

"You've been asleep for a year now."

Out

"Smallville's so worried about you."

In

"We're going out, actually."

Hiss in; hiss out.

"The doctors want me to take you off life-support."

_alt_

--

"It's Lois again. This is your nap's third year anniversary, y'know."

There's the steady beat of a heart moniter to acompany the hissing.

"Clark and I are engaged."

Entertain the notion that the small jump in the heart-rate is a sign that she's listening.

"He loves you, Chloe."

Entertain the notion that the small catch in the breathing machine's pump is a catch in her throat.

"I love you."

Entertain the notion that the plug to her life-support isn't out.

_delete_

_--_

_she doesn't restart_

_--_

_fin_

_--_

Notes: Oh snap. One of the darkest things I think I've written.


End file.
